Star-Spangled Hero [Worm/Scion]

[Brother Mouse]

So, after I hit a wall with Band (my other Worm & Scion crossover fic) I tried to refresh the old creative engine with a new story. This is that story. I have posted this on Ao3 and FFN prior, hence the speed at which chapters will be coming out.

As for our main OC here; word of warning he's kind of an idiot.

For those of you who don't know what Scion is; it's a tabletop rpg where you play demigods in the modern day. One of the extra gods you can have as a parent/patron is Columbia the patron spirit of the United States. She's not a main god choice, she's been a supplement choice in both editions of the game, she doesn't even have a pantheon in second edition.
​

---

John​

I pulled into the parking lot of a convenience store, cringing at how fucking loud the Trans Am's engine was. The car was a gift from my new boss, she called it a signing bonus, I call it a target painted on my back. Brockton Bay may not be Detroit, but that didn't mean this was a place you could have nice things as an average joe, let alone someone like me. I let out a deep sigh after the engine died and looked around the place, not seeing anyone suspicious getting hungry eyes at the sight of a genuine American classic.

I debated starting the car again and going straight back to my new house, but the growl of my empty stomach reminded me of why I was out here. My new boss dragged me out here, gave me a car, some gear, and the keys to a house, said that she would call with my first assignment "soonish", and then fucked off to wherever the hell she disappears to. Knowing full well that this place was a death trap, I did the smart thing and waited at the house. I mean I had a couple days worth of food and an office computer with access to the internet, surely I had enough food to last me until I got that assignment right? Wrong. It's been a whole fucking week and I haven't heard word one from her. I ran out of food this morning and couldn't avoid leaving the goddamn house anymore. Hunger beat paranoia by a round one knockout.

Once I got inside I was met with the upbeat and optimistic sounds of City Pop on not-quite blown out speakers, a monitor with the security camera feed showing a surprisingly high fidelity image of my new look and short-messy-wavy-mop of a hairdo.. The old Asian guy behind the register greeted me and he seemed pretty happy to see me.

"Welcome!" He said with a wave, he had a Japanese accent. He pointed out the clear glass door and to one of the many new sources of stress that have been thrust on me. "Nice car!"

I gave him a nervous smile and got shopping. I tossed some bags of instant ramen, some cans of soup, and a couple bags of chips into a small basket, hoping that the credit card in my wallet worked as intended. I tried not to let my eyes linger on the beer case, not like I could buy any now that I was a minor again, and I tried not to linger on the unfamiliar face in the transparent reflection of the beer case door.

"You not from here, eh?" the cashier said as he rang me up

I shrugged. "What makes you say that, sir?"

Cashier looked surprised and smiled even wider "You polite for one. You also have real nice car when only what?"

he looked me up and down

"Sixteen maybe?"

I nodded and gave him my hastily made cover story. "Yes sir, car was a birthday gift."

"And you don't walk like gangsta, you don't walk like rich boy, you walk like regular kid."

I chuckled. "All that from a walk?"

Cashier nodded and handed me my bag of snacks. "Have had this shop for over fifteen years. Learn a lot about people from how they walk into store."

I swiped the card, letting out a sigh of relief once the old timer handed me my receipt. When I grabbed it, the old man didn't let go.

"This city rough. But there good people here. I hope you one of them." He looked into my eyes, and with his gaze came a sudden sense of weight. After a brief moment, he let go and gave a slow bow of his head. "Wakai kami-sama."

I may not be fluent in Japanese but I've seen enough subbed anime to know what the last half of that means.

"Noted." was my awkward reply.

With that I left the store and was about to make my way to the red white and blue muscle car that I was stuck with (still surprised that I'm wishing I didn't have a kick ass car) when I heard the wheezing gasp of a city bus taking off and a girl shouting for it to stop. Old instinct kicked in, I turned my head towards the bus stop across the street and just stopped and stared.

She was tall for a girl, pretty thin too, exactly what you'd think of when you hear someone is called a beanpole. Poor girl was drenched to the bone in early February, from her long black hair down to her shoes. All that and the weather report I caught last night said it was going to snow later today. I watched the girl slump into the bus stop bench stall, she looked like she was doing everything in her power not to break down and cry.
The smart decision would have been to keep walking to that damn car and driving off back to that damn house and waiting for my goddamn boss to get off her star spangled ass and get whatever job she throws at me out of the way and then on the road to greener pastures. Then again, I haven't really been making smart decisions lately. Knowing full well that there was no turning back when I got across the street, that there would be no greener pastures and that I would be forever bound to this city if I went through with this, I made the longest fifteen steps of my life.

"Hey." I said to her once I got there. "This probably gonna sound like a dumb question but; are you OK?"

The girl slowly looked up, her glasses falling slightly from her nose. Her face was blank, her eyes somewhat unfocused. I could hear loud buzzing coming from the overflowing trashcan, a bad omen.

"Yeah." was all she said with a flat and almost lifeless voice. "I'm just fucking peachy."

"Yup. Sounded just as dumb as it did in my head." I looked down and cringed "There anything I can do to help?"

She adjusted her glasses and gave me a look I couldn't place.

"I got a car over there. I could start her up and turn on the heater." I gestured to the Trans Am "Stay out of the cold until your bus comes? It has manual locks, walk out when the bus is on the way or if you just want out."

In hindsight offering a cold and wet girl a seat in a muscle car probably sounded fucking sleazy. Again, my face was cringing realizing what I was saying. After a couple moments of awkward silence I just turned around sheepishly.

"I'll just go…"

With that I just walked back to the car, tossed my groceries in the trunk, and got in the driver's seat. As I put the key into the ignition I noticed something out of the corner of my eye; someone sitting in the passenger seat. To my surprise, there she was. If it weren't for the driver side door being closed I probably would have sailed to the pavement from shock.

"How and when did you get in here?"

The girl's expression was that of doomed acceptance, never a good sign.

"You left the door unlocked." she said quietly

I hummed in response then turned on the car and put the heater on full blast. I didn't turn on the radio, I just let the sound of the V8 and the A/C fans fill the silence, neither of us making any attempt at conversation.

The silence went on for the full hour I expected the next bus to come, we finally looked over to the bus stop and saw no sign of the next one. I pulled out the phone my boss gave me and checked the bus schedule and for any news regarding the route, turns out the bus was gonna be delayed due to a cape fight further up the line. I showed my passenger the phone, she sank further into the seat and muttered out "Figures."

Knowing full well what I was about to ask was never going to come off as anything remotely friendly in this neck of the woods, I braced myself for whatever was going to happen next.

"I got a full tank of gas." I started, my eyes cringed shut. "I can take you anywhere you want to go, all I need is directions."

Truth be told if she told me the address alone I'd be able to take her there, being a human GPS is kinda useful like that, but I wasn't going to say that. I opened my eyes and looked over, her face became that same blank unfocused expression she had at the bus stop. Despite that, I had the feeling she was mentally picking through everything I had been saying, everything I've done, and my body language. Trying to find something in there she didn't like.

Then she finally spoke; "Ok."

I nodded and buckled my seat-belt, asking her to do the same. She gave me seemingly random directions, driving us around in a circle or taking three lefts instead of going right. I could tell she was testing me. This went on for several blocks, eventually her directions became more coherent and seemed like they lead somewhere.
"Stop up here." She said, we were in a neighborhood of old houses and I pulled up to the nearest free bit of curb. Girl got out of the car and took a few steps before stopping.

"Why'd you help me?" she asked, her voice neutral.

I shrugged.

"Weather report said it might snow today. You were soaked. I did the math, didn't like the result. So I did something."

"You make a habit of helping strangers?"

"This city's a rough place. But there's still good people out there, I'm gonna try to be one of them." The cashier's words seemed to flow back into my head. Dunno why, but they seemed appropriate to paraphrase. "I know that if I was ever shit creek without a paddle, I'd hope someone would toss me a rope and tow me somewhere safe."

life seemed to return to the girl's face long enough for her to chuckle

"Ok then." she said turning to face me, her face back to that neutral blankness. "What's your name?"

Rather than my birth name, the new name Columbia gave me came from my lips.

"John Quincy Brewer." Still strange to say. Having a middle name is weird. Despite already knowing the answer, I had to ask. "You?"

"Taylor." She said slowly, seemingly unsure if she should have spoken. "Hebert."

"Pleasure to meet 'cha." I was hoping I came off as friendly. I reached into the glove box, grabbing a pen and a small notepad out. I quickly jotted down my phone number and name on to it, leaning over to hand it out the passenger side. "If you ever need someone to vent at, or you just need a ride. Call me. If I don't answer, I'll hear the voicemail and call you back. I got caller ID."

Despite knowing that I was digging myself deeper, I couldn't not reach out. I wasn't allowed to be a bystander anymore. I fully expected her to reject the number. To my surprise she took it without a word.

"Hang tough." Was all I said before driving off back to the house. Wondering what hell I was about to walk into.

There was no avoiding it after all. Scions are bound by Fate to be dragged into life's great dramas.

 

[Brother Mouse]

John​

I got lucky.

That snowfall on the forecast started right as I backed into the garage, which meant I had enough time to throw some logs in the fireplace and get the place all nice and warm while I put on some bootleg toku and anime from Earth Aleph. At least that would have been the plan, had she not been waiting for me.

I had walked into the kitchen, putting all of my groceries sans the bag of ramen I was going to make for dinner and not noticing her at first, but then she spoke from the shadowed living room.

"Five days, twelve hours, twenty-three minutes, and seven seconds."

How long it had been since she dropped me here.

"Took you long enough..."

That playful and sultry tone, the scent of fresh baked apple pie mixed with gunpowder, and the whistling cry of the bald eagle somewhere in the distance. Only one being had that Scent; Columbia, patron goddess of the United States of America. I turned around and she pulled the switch of the lone lamp in the room, revealing herself.

While in public, Columbia takes on the guise of the everywoman, making sure to be able to pass as most races at a glance. In private on the other hand, she has a specific look; picture the most beautiful woman you have ever seen wearing nothing but an American flag nightgown that could barely contain her full breasts and wide hips. Her brown hair let loose to drape down her shoulders, her skin is alabaster, and her only make up is a deep eye shadow and ruby red lipstick. Even with her head in the shadows of the lamplight, her eyes still seem to shine through; from the small flick of red in the iris of her navy blue eyes, even the whites of her sclera. She crosses her legs over, and leans enough for one of the straps of her gown fall off her shoulders just enough to tease a view of her breasts without showing a damn thing.

Despite the fact that she isn't a goddess of beauty, passion, or desire, she knows exactly how to position herself to titilate with no effort at all. In other words; the mother of all cock-teases. I may love my country, thus technically her, but she can fuck off with this forthwith. Those red lips of hers are cocked in a smirk, she caught me looking and knows that I'm kicking myself for doing it again.

"So, what did you think?" she chuckled

I turned around and got back to fixing my ramen rather than ogle my boss.

"Of the city?" I got to boiling the water and setting out a bowl "Detroit, Chicago, Los Angeles. You've seen one shitty city you've seen 'em all."

I heard Columbia laughing softly

"You've only been to one of those cities…"

"I had internet access."

"But you had never been to them."

"Shit cities are shitty, what's your point Columbia?"

The air seemed to shift around me and then she was draping herself over my shoulders, her mouth dangerously close to my ears.

"I'm not talking about Brockton Bay…" she whispered out "…I know who was in your car…"

I grit my teeth and tried to avoid thinking about her breasts against my back and her mouth near my ears, the ramen was more interesting. Yeah…

"What about her?" I said calmly as I tossed the ramen into the soon to boil water and covered the pot

Columbia rested her head on my shoulder.

"Did you think you could avoid her?" Her arms were wrapping around my waist now, it was getting harder to avoid thinking about what she was doing. "That you could avoid your Fate?"

"I was hoping that I could do whatever task you needed of me and then you'd send me to some other world, hopefully one that wasn't made to be as grimderp as possible."

The friendly laugh signaled her letting me go.

"Fat chance of that, kid." She was back in the corner chair next to the lone lamp. I didn't even have to look "You've been 'isekai'd' as you say, and you know how those Japanese comics go. Did you think that Fate only went off of the classics?"

I took the heat off my dinner and turned to face my boss.

"So I'm stuck here regardless of if I had ran in to the future little miss All The Bugs?"

"Yes."

"And what is it exactly that you want me to do here? Maybe run for president?" I chuckled, shaking my head. Straightening up I put on my best JFK impression "Ask not what your goddess can do for you, but what you can do for your goddess!"

Columbia looked rather amused, can't tell if it was because of my impression or my frustration.

"If you want." was all she said, in that same casual and noncommittal tone as always

That was fucking it; I didn't care if she was Divine, I didn't care if she was going to smite me for what I was going to say. I needed answers.

"Cut that bullshit out, Columbia!" I was pointing at her and shaking mad. "Tell me, for fuck's sake, what am I supposed to do here? I'm obviously here for some reason, so what is it?"

Her expression didn't change.

"Mr. Brewer." she said in faux shock. "Why on earth would I tell you what to do?"

"Ain't that kinda what Gods do?" my hands were pressed into my face now "You pop out or choose a scion and then have them do your dirty work down with mortals right?"

Columbia chuckled warmly.

"That may be true of the others, but I most certainly do not believe in that. I merely placed you here and provided the means for you to live as you wish to on this earth. You're an American, you have the freedom to do whatever you please. Absolute personal freedom. The only thing that I ask of you is that you be responsible with that freedom and try to keep this great nation's ideals alive, if you so desire. If you wish to be a hero, you may. If you wish to start a criminal enterprise, you may. If you wish to accelerate the end of this world, by all means try. What you do here, is entirely up to you and you will have to live with whatever consequences you bring upon yourself, weather they be beneficial or detrimental."

I blinked and she was in front of me, jabbing at my heart with a single finger.

"John Quincy Brewer, 'I Want You' to live the life you wish to live. To find your American Dream and live it out."

Before I could retort, my pockets were buzzing and the dulcet tones of Trey Parker shouting "America Fuck Yeah!" killed any and all weight the moment had. The wide smile on Columbia's face and the shock in her eyes told an odd story.

"You set that as my ringtone?"

She had the presence of mind to at least look sheepish. "Uh… yeah…"

She did that teleport trick of hers, this time my eyes were wide open and I still somehow didn't catch it.

"JQB." I answered, cringing and shaking my head at how lame that must sound. "John Quincy Brewer speaking."

"Wow…" was the faint reply.

"Hello?"

"It's, uh, Taylor. Taylor Hebert. The girl you gave a ride to earlier?" of fucking course it is. "I didn't think you gave me a real number…"
"Ah. Well, it's real." I smacked myself in the forehead, Columbia chuckled loudly and covered her mouth, her eyes still amused rather than shocked. If only I could shoot optic blasts…

"Who's that?" Taylor's voice became defensive, probably going through a doomsday scenario in her head.

"That's my-" I coughed to to cover up my thinking "-landlady, she came to pick up rent and decided to act like she owns the place."

Columbia was by my side in an instant

"Oi do own the place!" she said, in the thickest Boston accent I had ever hear. Right by my fucking ear. "Hoi miss-terry goil!"

I elbowed her nudge her out of the way, she acted like that would hurt and began to pose over-dramatically

"Back off, Columbia!" I snarled out. "Yeah, she doesn't really understand boundaries."

"huh…" I could hear the gears turning in Taylor's head from the phone lines alone, awkwardness thy initials are JQB "Well, I just wanted to, like, confirm that I got the right number. Kinda didn't expect you to answer…"

Ah!

"You were trying to catch my voicemail."

Taylor chuckled nervously.

"Yeah. I don't have a cell phone and I'm kind of just freestyling here…"

There was a heavy awkward pause, only made worse by the kissy faces and ill contained laughter from the patron goddess of the US.

"I'm going to hang up now." Taylor said while I was glaring at my patron "You have a good night…"

"Yeah, night." The line went dead and Columbia got what passed as serious for her

"Calling your number and not even an hour has gone by?" She paced over by a plain land line phone hanging on the side of one of the kitchen walls. "She must really be in dire need of a friend…"

She snapped her fingers and pointed at me

"You want an assignment, here's one; you are to do everything in your power to befriend this girl. Good enough?"

Well now I most certainly not avoiding The Plot anytime soon. I just gave a lazy thumbs up in reply.

"Atta boy." She moved right next to me and gave me a quick peck on the cheek before disappearing again.

Despite not seeing her, I could here her voice echo in the distance;

"Good luck~"

---

On Columbia: Yeah, Columbia isn't like this in either edition of Scion. Since she doesn't have a pantheon to balance her out, here she's the American ideal of personal freedom. Chaotic Neutral if you need an alignment.

 

[Brother Mouse]

John​

I stared at the stranger in the mirror after my morning shower. The only feature JQB's body shared with my old self was the thick and wavy hair on our head. Hair that I didn't start taking care of or even really doing anything with beyond shaving it till a fucking pandemic had me reevaluate my life choices. I'd have to get the good shit for my hair if I wanted to capitalize on my new youthful days. I don't know if Columbia intended for it, but JQB's face was an odd melting pot of features that made it damn near impossible to actually describe race. Hell, the blue eyes and off tanned skin alone make for a curve-ball. Yet another target on my back given to me by a goddess. I'm in danger of getting attacked over a damn car on one end and for my features on the other. Thank you Wildbow for being so unsubtle as to have neo nazis be prevalent in your damn setting, truly you are a literary genius. Before I got myself ranting at the sky or taking any more time out of my day to try to figure out a hairstyle more complex than brushing and letting my hair hang I had something far more important to deal with; The Plot.

Any day now Taylor was probably going to start calling me, trying to latch on to the first positive interaction that she could which, due to Fate's shenanigans, was now me. That meant that I needed to get my house feeling like a home in the off chance that she starts hanging out. Don't get me wrong, I like the minimalism thing I got going on at the house, but if she comes by and sees that the only furniture in the house consisted; of a small dining table, two chairs, a desk, an end table, a single lamp, and a mattress tossed on to the floor of the master bedroom, she's going to see nothing but red flags and go running for the hills. Which would then have her in a downward spiral that would lead her back to her canon path of misery, pain, and a life of villainy all because I didn't furnish my damn house. Sadly that meant I had to do some interior design while also getting things that made the house looked lived in, which meant going on the internet and find out if any garage sales or estate sales were going on. Which meant taking a page out of dear old dad's book and checking Craigslist. Luckily there were a couple going on in the nicer suburbs and there was a nice ad for a trailer that fit the hitch for the Trans Am on the way.

A quick trip to the ATM for some cash and a short drive later and I was at the place. It was the kind of colonial looking houses you saw the clean cut family's of old sitcoms have; nice and crisp white paint job, door right in the center, a two car garage, well maintained lawn, two stories, the works. I had the vague sense that something was off about the house as I walked up to the front door, like there was an oppressive aura coming from within. Cautiously, I knocked on the door and the very upbeat voice of a teenage girl answered.

"Just a second!"

I could feel that oppressive aura come closer, like the pressure of the ocean mixed with a week's worth of sleep deprivation, and then the door opened. Girl was maybe my (apparent) age, the kind of girl that shows up in teen comedies or coming of age stories as the hot cheerleader the protagonist tries to score with. The girl that makes every straight guy in school in to a drooling idiot with a flip of her hair and a subtle sway to her hips as she walks, complete with blonde hair and blue eyes. Of course I'd probably be drooling myself with that nice smile she was giving me, if it weren't for that fucked up feeling going through my head at that moment.

"Yeah, I'm here about that Craigslist ad for the trailer?" I asked, blinking and squinting trying to shake that weird mental weight.

"Craigslist ad?" she asked, that smile falling and that feeling in my head getting worse.

I started rubbing my temples with my free hand as I dug out my phone and showed her the ad with the other.

"Yeah, there wasn't a number I could call just the weird little internal message thingy that the website has. Said I'd be over to see if I got the right hitch setup?"

The pressure was rising in my head, I think the girl was saying something but I couldn't listen. I took deep breath and popped my fingers from pinkie to index with my thumbs in sequence, trying to center myself. Surprisingly, this worked.

I opened my eyes again, Miss Teenage Dream looked both concerned for me and ready to throw hands.

"You OK?" she asked, only half sincere from her tone

I gave her a thumbs up and a nod.

"Yeah, just a headache. Not used to New England weather yet." I looked past her into the house, looked cold despite the heater's air coming from the open door. "Any of your parent's home? I just want to make sure I didn't fall for a joke ad."

It'd be a shitty joke to pull; you call someone out for something in a suburban neighborhood and then just have them awkwardly explain to the homeowner that someone made an ad for something and put it on the internet for the purpose of mildly inconveniencing someone.

"My dad's home." She said, her face in a grimace. "I'll go get him."

A couple moments later and out came a guy that could pass as Miss Teenage Dream's elder brother rather than father. He also barely had any facial features in common with her, seeming more like your average Joe that got fit rather than Adonis reborn. Guy had a look about him that I had seen way to often in my old life, a haunted look he tried to hide.

"You-" I checked the ad on my phone again. "-Mark?"

"Yeah." He offered his hand for me to shake, I did so firmly "Mark Dallon."

SHIT

That meant blondie was Victoria Dallon, aka Collateral Damage Barbie, and that meant Queen Karen was this poor bastard's wife. I didn't have to even mention Amy.

FUCK

Luckily I kept my composure and just smiled.

"Good to meet 'cha." I said sincerely.

Mark gave me a quick look and I think he noticed the elephant in the room.
"Aren't you a bit young to be buying trailers off an ad on the internet?"

Low hanging fruit. I had to go for it. It is a reference that literally only me would get in this world. But I do not care.

"Yes. Yes, I am." I had the biggest motherfucking smile I've had in the past three weeks.

"So before I bring out the trailer, I have to ask. Why?"

Ah shit. Time to bust out the cover story.

"My parents bought a house out here, left me there and then headed off to work somewhere else."

I shrugged and pointed to the Trans Am

"Folks got me that and got me a credit card I can pull money from so long as I don't spend it on stupid stuff. So I'm home alone, doing some online classes, in a big empty house that is in dire need of furniture with a car that only has two seats and not enough trunk space. Hence me looking for a trailer."

Mark bought that. Somehow. He had me walk over to the garage door as he went in to open her up. Doors went up and there it was. Rest of the conversation went smoothly, we made sure the Trans Am's hitch could take the trailer, I let Mark drive the thing around the neighborhood so we could make sure the thing wasn't going to fall apart (and because the guy looked like he really wanted to give the Trans Am a test drive). Nothing of note really happened now that I think about it, I gave a depressed guy a moment of childlike joy of driving an American Classic, overpaid by a hundred dollars for a trailer, and got a trailer. All from people who were going through some shit and then go through even MORE shit within the year. I had the feeling that I'd be changing that, hopefully for the better.

Thankfully for my sanity there wasn't anything crazy going on at the Estate sale, I got a matching set of good old American made furniture, some book shelves, a crap-ton of books of all kinds, and a kickass record player.

Naturally the trip back is where shit would go sideways. I was in the city proper, on the shittier side. It was around 5pm, so it was getting dark even without the shot out streetlights. At a stop. You all know where this was going.

In about twelve seconds, three crusty looking guys came up to the car. The one in the middle had a gun and he had it aimed at my head, the other two had makeshift clubs.

"Get outta the fuggin' car!" Bum with the Gun said.

Before I got out of the car, I felt my wrists to make sure some important bits were there. Cool steel bracers on both of them, one was of white stars over a blue field, the other was red and white stripes. Two of the four Relics Columbia had granted me. The innate powers within them would do me know good, but these three mooks had nothing on me.

I calmly got out of the Trans Am, making sure to turn off the engine and take the keys with me.

"Thass a nice ride…" Bum with a Gun drawled out "Howzabout you gimme it?"

I turned my eyes from him to his weapon of choice. An over-sized handgun that he was struggling to keep straight and leveled, either from nerves or whatever the hell was in his system. This over-sized handgun would be intimidating if not for two things. One, it was ungodly filthy. Two, it was a Hi-Point, a handgun known for being the cheapest 9mm on the market and for being rather unreliable when well maintained with factory parts. These two facts plus the Bum's poor form made for a distinct lack of intimidation factor to the intitated.

I was going to end this poor bastard's whole criminal career.

"How about no?" I deadpanned "You, crusty cocksucker."

Poor bastard's drug addled mind processed the insult on a delay. Once he caught it, he flew into a rage and pulled the trigger.

-CLICK-

Jammed.

Bum looked at his gun shocked and I let my new body's muscle memory guide me. Pulling the bum's arm away from me and towards the ground, I broke his wrist, hearing the dogshit gun hit the ground. With a quick yank, his arm was out of its socket and gave me enough leverage to kick him into one of his buddies. The one still standing took a wide swing that I ducked under and gave a counter punch to his nose, feeling the cartilage crumble. Before the last guy could get up and run, I dragged him by his leg back to the pile of now screaming and gun-less Bum and Broken Nose Bob. Then to add insult to injury, I took off my belt and started whipping all of them with it like I was their dad.

I admit, it's petty and vindictive but I didn't care at the time.

I got a huge kick out of it to be honest, hearing him scream and hearing the leather of the belt meet his face and his exposed waistband. Couldn't tell if it was my new calling as a Destroyer or years of pent up aggression from seeing wastes of flesh like this fuck up my hometown in my old life, but hot damn did I not fight the feeling.

"Next time you try to car jack someone you best come with something better than a filthy fucking Hi-Point!" I shouted as I put my belt back on. I walked over and picked up the disgusting gun, ejecting the magazine, removing the bullets, and finally detaching the slide. While the pile of filth tried to writhe away, I took aim and full force threw the pieces of gun at each of them. "Now fuck off!"

With that I got back in the Trans Am and blasted the radio letting good 'ol classic rock fill the silent air of the Brockton Bay Ghettos with a wide shit eating grin on my face and letting out a howl at the rising moon.

---

I'm gonna be doing minor edits to these chapters as I post them, I write off the cuff and in hindsight a lot of stuff that gets written. I also wasn't in the best head space when I wrote this (or Band really) and I think it shows. I'm not gonna delete either fic outright, just try to salvage them. Band may beyond salvaging though, but I've invested so much time in it that I may just say fuck it and keep going.

 

[Brother Mouse]

Skipped a rather pointless PHO section I had whipped up for this, which is just a different kind of lazy. Hell in the OG post for this I even call it "kinda filler" Apologies in advance

---

Taylor​

Another day of school gone. Another whole eight hours of The Bitches Three and their entourage making my life hell and NOBODY fucking helping.

1st​ period; Spitballs from Emma in history, going back to the fucking classics!

2nd​ period; My math homework gets drenched in water then stepped on by Madison

3rd​ period; It was volleyball in gym, and Sophia got to show off just how good of a shot she was and I got to get beaned repeatedly, plus side my team won. Downside Sophia shoulder checked me into the corner of a locker.

Lunch; They got creative and tripped some other girl so she would launch her tray of food right on top of me! Hell, they even did the math for it apparently!

4th​ period; World Issues, Gladly was too busy getting distracted by Emma's fucking cow tits while Sophia trips me onto Greg's desk. An inch to the right and I would have landed face first into his crotch, lucky fucking me!

5th​ period; Computers, the power strip get's "accidentally" tripped on and the files get corrupted, setting back my work for months!

6th​ period; ENGLISH! Where nothing fucking happened for once. Until my way out where they did the usual taunts and jeers while cornering me in a janitor's closet and then locking the door on me. It wasn't as bad as The Locker, but then again nothing was. Just me alone in a janitor's closet for a half hour, waiting until the janitor came to grab something.

So there I was running late, running towards the nearest city bus stop, over a mile away from school, my hair still smelling like today's mystery meat lunch. I see the stop down the block, there's a straight shot to it and I can see the bus coming down the way behind me.

I could make it!

I felt my lungs burn as I sprinted forward, with my pace I'd be able to make it to the stop and get on the bus and be home free!

But then…

The street I was on, there's an old apartment building just before the bus stop, apparently one of the people living there still does their laundry by hand in a bucket, and that Friday was laundry day.

Rather than doing the normal thing of tossing the used water down the sink, shower, or hell mix it up and use it to flush your toilet, they decided to toss their whole used dirty laundry water out of their third story window and all over me.

My momentum stopped as I felt nothing but stinging cold and almost stumbled to the pavement.

Unfortunately that was enough time for the bus to drive past me, stop for maybe half a second, and then take off again.

I tried yelling and waving for it to stop, but hell the driver just gunned it and left faster!

This day. This FUCKING day.

I just couldn't handle it anymore, I just sat down on the bench. I was cold, I was wet, I was angry, I was trying not to cry. Then he came along.

"Hey, this is probably gonna sound like a really dumb question question but; are you OK?"

Genuine concern? For me? Sounded too good to be true. I shunted my emotions into my swarm, a new trick I picked up recently that's already helped me out numerous times already. I looked up slowly, wondering if I'd see some guy from school that The Trio decided to sic on me. He wore a well worn work boots, faded and scuffed jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and a black zip up hoodie.

"Yeah. I'm just fucking peachy." I thanked the monotone of my deadened emotions, and hoped that it would scare him off if he was sent by The Trio.

To my surprise he didn't seem fazed

"Yup. That sounded just as dumb as it did in my head…"

He looked down and took a breath, what was he planning?

"Is there, like, anything I can do to help?"

When he lifted his head, I could see that he was cringing. Not out of disgust for me, but like he was expecting me to do something to him for saying that.

I hadn't noticed that my glasses had fallen at first, but in the moments I was trying to find a tell or something that would point to him about to do some twisted prank I readjusted them and got a much better look at this strange boy. His face was starting to develop the chiseled features of a man, his black hair was growing out and getting long enough that the waves were forming wide curls, and his dull blue eyes showed nothing but concern. As a whole it made him seem like he was a good summer away from being the kind of guy that could make all the girls swoon.

Before I could reply he pointed over to a red, white, and blue muscle car across the street.

"I got a car over there. I could start her up and turn on the heater and you can stay out of the cold while you wait on another bus? It has manual locks, you could walk out when the bus gets here or if you just want out."

Oh my god. He isn't with The Trio. He's just a douche! Or was he? I was thinking myself around in circles trying to figure out his angle. I couldn't figure it out.

"I'll just go…"

I stopped spacing out and paid attention to him as he walked away.

I don't know what I was thinking, maybe hypothermia was setting in, maybe I had a death wish, but for some reason I got up and followed him. I walked over to the passenger side and tried the door, it opened. I sat down, wondering how he'd react to me getting his leather seats all wet, and quietly closing the door. He stuck the key into the ignition and then yelped as he leapt out of his seat and against his door. My initial thought of him possibly being a douche seemed to be on the money, he was probably going to to try something, thinking that I was going to be an easy lay or something just because he's being nice to me.

"How and when did you get in here?"

The shocked look on his face however told yet another story.

I didn't know what to believe. My emotions came back from the swarm and I slumped into the car seat.

"You left the door unlocked."

With a hum and a nod he turned the engine over and cranked up the heater. I was bracing myself for him trying something, but to my surprise he didn't. I sat as comfortably as I could being soaked to the bone, but the heat was still welcome. An hour came and went with neither of us speaking. Eventually he showed me his phone; Armsmaster and Skidmark were having a brawl and it was right along the bus route, blocking buses from getting to this stop. I sank into the seat, hearing the leather squeak and squelch as I slid.

"Figures."

"I got a full tank of gas. I can take you anywhere you want to go, all I need is directions."

I looked over to him, he looked like he was mentally kicking himself for saying that. I sent my emotions back to the swarm before I said anything. There was no way that he wasn't planning something. He was not helping me for nothing.

But…

I still needed a ride home and I slipped some spiders from my swarm into the car just in case.

I said "OK." as soon as I had enough spiders inside. With a nod he buckled his seat belt.

"You too, this car don't move without everyone strapped in."

Once we were on the road he started asking me.

"So where am I going?"

I was expecting him to say that he needed to make a stop somewhere first. Just to make sure, I gave him fake directions mixed in with real ones. Once we were three blocks from the house, I told him to pull over. To my shock he was a perfect gentleman and he didn't try anything. I stopped before I could get too far from the car.

"Why did you help me?"

I needed to know why. I had to know if there was some last minute fake out or if there was some reason why he would just help me out of the blue.

"The weather report said it might snow tonight and you were soaked. I did the math, didn't like the result. So I did something about it."

I turned my head around so I could get a look at his face.

"You make it a habit of helping strangers?"

The boy shrugged and smiled.

"This city's a rough place, but there's still good people out there. I'm gonna try to be one of them. I know if I was ever up shit creek without a paddle, I'd hope there'd be someone to toss me a rope and tow me somewhere safe."

Huh.

A chuckle escaped me before I sent my emotions back to the swarm. I turned to face him.

"Ok then, what's your name?"

"John Quincy Brewer. You?"

It had a nice ring to it. His parents chose his name wisely.

"Taylor. Hebert." Despite the tiny voice in the back of my head telling me this was a terrible idea I told him my name.

John nodded and gave me a smile "Pleasure to meet 'cha."

He grabbed some pen and paper, writing his number down and reaching out of the passenger window to hand it to me.

"If you ever need someone to vent to or maybe need another ride, call me."

I looked over the phone number and spaced out a bit, I know it's usually the boy asking the girl for her number but even with the tables turned like this I was still a little shocked that a boy would give me the time of day and not be a creep, or seemingly out to get something.

I thought long and hard on whether or not I should call him, from the walk home to the quick cold shower.

It was getting to that time that Dad would be coming home and that meant no using the phone to call mystery boys with nice cars. So, I bit the bullet. I mean he was probably taking a shower, eating, or doing something that would get him away form the phone. It was getting late, there was a very slim chance that he would actually answer the phone right?

Three rings and to my surprise, he answered.

"JQB."

Oh my god, he had a stupid little catch phrase when he answered the phone?

I heard him sigh in frustration and then clear his throat.

"John Quincy Brewer speaking."

He was trying to sound professional now? He wasn't a douche, he was a total dork!

"Wow…" I muttered to myself, a bit louder than I intended

"Hello?"

Oh shit he heard that, get it together Taylor.

"It's Taylor. Taylor Hebert. The girl you gave a ride to earlier?"

Oh god damn it, brain please give me something better to work with than that!

"I didn't think you gave me a real number…"

I TAKE IT BACK!

"Ah. Well. It's real." I heard an older woman chuckling on the other line.

"Who's that?" I asked, I was starting to see red flags or maybe I was being more paranoid than usual.

"That's my…" John coughed like he had some food lodged in his throat, sounded painful. "…Landlady. She came to pick up rent and decided to act like she owned the place."

Before I could say anything, I heard the thickest Masshole accent ever on a woman.

"Oi do own the place! Hoi miss-terry goil!"

I could hear a struggle on the other end, this seemed less like his landlady and more like an embarrassing aunt.

"Yeah she doesn't really understand boundaries."

"Huh. Well I just wanted to, like, confirm that I got the right number." I smacked myself in the head as soon as I realized what I just gave away. "Kinda didn't expect you to answer."
I started banging my head against the kitchen wall.

"You were trying to catch my voicemail?"

Oh god now he thought I was desperate didn't he?

"Yeah, I don't have a cellphone and I'm kind of just freestyling here."

The head banging only got slightly harder. Only slightly. I could here his landlady make kissing noises in the background and his groan of embarrassment in the foreground.

"I'm gonna hang up right now. You have a good night."

With my face heating up I hung up the phone quickly and went up to my room to scream into my pillow. Thankfully Dad wasn't home to hear any of that.

Eventually Dad came home with takeout, we had a non conversation, and we both went to bed.

If anyone was around to look, they would have seen a slight smile on my face as I nodded off.

---

I think I have trouble writing Taylor. I think I used the following analogy to describe what I understood pree Worm 1.1 start her as "a cat that's been kicked one too many times and needs a lot of coaxing to be friendly again, but will latch on to the first positive connection she can." which is probably wrong.

 

[ajprevett]

Been watching this on FF, funny story with some unexpected twists and turns. Keep up the good work.

 

[Judge_Dragon]

watched this has so much potential

 

[Judge_Dragon]

Genuine concern? For me?

Click to shrink...

all I could think of when I read that was

edit: rest of the chap did not help with that impression
edit2: just read the Author notes personally I like her PoV and find her cautious optimism and her totally not a crush very adorable

 

[QZTK]

I'm really digging this. JQB is is relatable, and Columbia is a hoot. You're got an interesting mystery in Columbia's actions, and JQB is dangling on a good plot-hook.
The Taylor chapter is pretty weak, though, it's just a rehash of previous writing, and Taylor sounds like a stereotypically badly written Taylor. You went too far on the cattiness, Taylor is pessimistic and cynical and bleak, but I don't really get the feeling of cattiness from her. The whole Winslow segment reads like a boring list, because it's just a list of things that happened.